


No Rest For The Winged

by Kyirah



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Build, Swallow!Peter, Vulture!Wade, Wingfic, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6391006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyirah/pseuds/Kyirah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade hates his wings, for a variety of reasons. They are crooked, scarred, forever molting and flightless. But he won't tell any of it to anyone.<br/>Peter is done with his bullshit, and why would Wade hate his wings when they were obviously Raptor's wings, the most prized type of wings?</p><p>AKA Wade is as charming as a brick, Peter is a cute lil' pie and the Avengers are done with their antics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hi everyone! I just did this on a whim because I've read practically all wingfics on this goddamned site and I have never seen any kind of vultures and I thought: "Why not write one? Hm, Vultures remember me of Wade, because he's bald and eats and behaves like one (seriously, they pee on their feet to keep infections off, that gotta be a Wade-bird)." and here we are!  
> Wade is a Griffon Vulture while Peter will be a Wire-Tailed Swallow.  
> First Fic in the fandom, please be kind to me!  
> If you see any errors, feel free to correct me! English isn't my first language and online correctors can only do so much.  
> Some notes: This Vanessa is a mix between Comics!Vanessa (AKA Copycat) and Movie!Vanessa. The same goes to Wade; I'm using a bit of his backstory from Origins: Wolverine, the comics, and the Deadpool movie. I hope that's okay. (I'm also totally ignoring the actual origin of the Boxes. Let's pretend they appeared along with his mutation)
> 
> [White Box]  
> {Yellow Box}
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy it!

Wade was six when his wings molted for the first time, a little earlier than normal. He went hysterics.

They were bigger than the average, covered in shades of brown and black. He couldn't be certain of what kind they were yet; he would have to wait for his next molt to go to the doctor, but he was almost sure he was a Raptor. He hoped for an Eagle or a Hawk.

His father smiled at him for the first time in years.

 

\--

 

On the good side, he's indeed a Raptor.

On the bad side, he's a fucking _Vulture_.

 

\--

 

His father invented a new game called "dodge the bottle".

Neither he nor his mother liked that game.

 

\--

 

Wade's mother was in awe at his wings, the same way he was at her's.

She had blue-purple Hummingbird wings, that beat faster than anything he had ever seen, forming a rainbow of colors when the light flashed just right. They were fast, pretty and delicate, just like his mother. Physically, at least. Because the woman was as stubborn as a bull and never backed down; the only reason her wings had escaped his father's ire was because he could never catch them in his drunken state.

At the same time, she said wonderful things about Wade's wings: she loved the way he hid his head in then when he was shy or sleepy, loved how they could cover his whole body if he was cold and how they almost never lost a feather when his father decided to play "dodge" with him.

He was ten, and his wings were big enough for him to fly. Again, a little earlier than most kids, but he was just like that. They were big enough, so now he could spend the day soaring around the building his mother worked in, and she would sometimes join him, standing still in one place and letting Wade circle her and both would giggle.

Only then did Wade start to believe her.

 

\--

 

He was twelve when his mother died and his father began plucking at his feathers.

 

\--

 

He was fifteen when he broke off the breaks of his father's bike and moved into the orphanage. He lived there for three years and was out the front door and into the army on the day of his eighteenth birthday.

 

\--

 

For the first time since his mother died, Wade was proud of his wings.

All of his units had Raptor's wings: Logan's soft brown wings of a Kite, the same as Creed; Fred and John were Hawks; Chris was an Osprey and Agent Zero was a Secretarybird, much to Wade's amusement.

Wade's big wings shielded him from the harsh sun and wild winds, kept him warm when they were on the field and hid from Logan's stare and punches when he decided he had enough of his rambling.

They also allowed him to meet Vanessa, wonderful and sassy Vanessa, with whom he spent all of his waking minutes with when he wasn't on duty.

Vanessa had the weirdest wings ever: her coverts looked like a Falcon, but her primaries and secondaries were Eagle-white and they were Owl-shaped.

It wasn't until the third time they were together, four months after their meeting that he discovered why: Vanessa was a fucking shapeshifter.

(Not that he minded, that just meant he could explore all of his pansexual-ness in a monogamous relationship. That also meant he could take her with him in his missions as his little pet rat and they could do mischief everywhere they go. Dating a mercenary was awesome.)

 

\--

 

Then he was discharged with PTSD and a busted knee, moved to LA, lived with his sugar mama for nine months tops before Mr. Cancer came to bang on his door.

 

\--

 

"What if I told you we can cure you? Make you better? You would be a superhero."

"Well, I would say 'Please, don't make the fucking suit green'."

 

\--

Weapon XI. What a shit.

Wade isn't even sure how to say that. Weapon Ex-Ay? Weapon Eleven? Why does Logan get all the cool names? Sure, he gets the cool immortality thing, but he would very much prefer a cool name. Something to do with death. Or a code name, like Vanessa's mercenary name, Copycat, and… Shit.

 _ **RED ALERT**_ , DANGEROUS THOUGHT.

Keep rambling, it's been a good distraction so far.

What are we distracting ourselves from again?

The fact that we probably lost Vanessa, our army buddies, and our wings.

And our face is _**ugly as shit.**_

"Yes, thanks, Yellow, that's a great encouragement." Wade grumbles at his boxes, ignoring them while they bicker. He's sour-mooded now.

The tough thing is, they are right. The guys at Weapon X project told him that they killed Vanessa and every one of his army buddies, so when they controlled him there would be no emotional attachments left.

He wasn't sure if the last reminders were needed in the project too or it was just to Francis' amusement, but now his entire body is covered in scar tissue, always shifting and healing itself, fighting cancer and all other diseases, rendering his skin unable to grow any kind of hair and almost 100% of the time in pain. His wings are in a similar state, but thankfully his healing factor didn't get rid of his feathers.

It looked actually rather confused, as if internally it knows he should have feathers, but still sees it as some kind of impediment. The result is that now his damaged and forever crooked wings are always molting, shedding feathers when he moves his wings and soon growing them back. It also did him the favor of not knowing where to grow the things, so they are all crooked and in uncomfortable positions, often painful ones.

His primaries are never quite lined up, and often it will grow covets where it should grow his secondaries, and sometimes it just gives up and leaves a patch of scarred skin without feathers or grown two in the same place, what makes Wade flinch in pain and reach to pluck at them at least once a day.

To summarize everything, he's flightless and _fucking ugly_.


	2. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aadn I'm back! I have no idea when the story really begins, but I hope it won't be too long.  
> Just to give you guys a heads up, this story is not movie nor comic-wise, since the movies are a mess and the comic has too much drama for me (Have you read that? I mean, Poor Peter only fucks things up) so in here Harry, MJ and Gwen are all friends and Peter told them that he was Spider-man when he entered the Avengers and realized he was in _real_ danger now and he didn't want to keep lying to them.
> 
> So, enjoy Peter's chap!

Peter was seven when his fluffy gray wings started itching. His life was a living hell (for him) and a live comedy (for uncle ben) for the next half year until his feathers finally decided to molt.

He wasn't exactly angry, sad or upset on the color they turned out to be - aunt May had taught him to like and respect every type of wings - but he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He had dreamed and wished to have big raptor’s wings, in some shade of brown or white. If he could choose, he would go for an Owl, like uncle Ben. A beautiful bird of prey, one of the prettiest in Peter’s opinion.

Instead, his wings were black and sleek, a little more pointed than he was used to seeing. After his second molt, the feathers gained a midnight-blue hue to it, shining elegantly in the right light. The doctor, one day after his molt was finished, said he had beautiful Wire-Tailed Swallow wings.

 

\--

 

Peter was eleven when he flew for the first time, the wind on his hair, the chill feeling on his arms, the sensation of liberty as the grass passed beneath him… That was exactly what people described and at the same time nothing like it. Peter couldn’t fly very high yet, but he already _loved_ it.

His wings weren’t as big as his uncle's or aunt's, but they were better for gliding than their's, and he found out that he liked very much to open his wings as long as they would go and just let the air current carry him.

 

\--

 

Peter was seventeen when he was bitten by a radioactive spider.

The first thing he did when he discovered his new powers was to inspecting his wings, hoping that nothing would change. He didn't know what kind of miracle his luck performed, but his wings changed very little.

They just gained a darker tone to it, his feathers seemed more resistant to most kind of harm and, after some tests, he discovered that he now could fly at night without doing any noise, and he was even better at it than some nocturnal birds he knew.

 

\--

 

Peter was seventeen when uncle Ben was shot and he became Spider-man.

He supposed that was the price he had to pay for his powers.

 

\--

 

Peter didn't think they exactly classified as a flock since it officially required at least two individuals of the same wing-type and five members. It was just him, Harry, Gwen, and MJ. Not that it mattered to them if they couldn't officially register: Their parents recognized it, and it was enough for them.

They didn't always get along: Peter had his head in his ass for a long time after he became Spider-man, didn't even bat an eye at Gwen's attempts at friendship, didn't have time for anything, since his job at the Bugle and his "job" as Spider-man took all his time.

It took him a good month and being roommates with Harry to finally relax a little and let go of the burden he'd been carrying since his uncle's death. Aunt May was incredibly happy for him, and even if they didn't always function together, he felt at ease when they flew together.

He supposed they looked a little weird together. A Canadian Geese - Harry, a Rosefinch - M.J., a Barn Owl - Gwen and a Swallow - himself? They had to be the weirdest flock he had ever seen.

 

\--

 

At the age of twenty, he discovered that there were weirder flocks than his own.

He thought it was a prank, at the beginning. Because, really, the Avengers wanted him, Spider-man, to join them? Haha, where are the cameras?

(When he said that he took pity on the embarrassed and confused look the Captain gave him. It was just too cute.)

The Avengers was the weirdest flock he had ever laid his eyes on, in terms of personality, dynamic, and wing-types.

Steve Rogers was, as expected, a Bald Eagle. He looked as fierce as one, the proper image of a Raptor. But, really: have you ever looked at an Eagle? On the front, not its profile. Well, for your enlightenment: it looked confused. A cute kind of confused, but eagles are basically just really big dorks when you get to know them.

Tony Stark, one of Peter's scientific idols, had a red-and-gold metal prosthesis. The ones he used with the Iron man suit, at least, were red-and-gold Falcon wings. Peter discovered that when he was in the tower he used a variety of prosthesis, varying from Owl-shaped silver-white in the lab (he said they made him look smarter) to Sparrow-shaped, brown carbon fibers when he was too tired to bear the weight of metal ones. He even made Swallow-like ones after Peter joined for night missions, what made Peter gush and make awed-eyes at him for one entire week.

The Black Widow - Natasha, she insisted, to-spider-from-spider - and Clint were both Crows. What came as no surprise: they were exactly like the birds. Uncannily smart, sneak and prank-makers at the core. There wasn't one week that went without some of their antics. Peter took some time to learn that they meant it in an affectionate way: if they pass by you and gently tug on your wings, it means they like you. (Agent Coulson, the third Crow, kept them from doing more stupid things)

Doctor Banner, Peter's other scientific idol, had the most interesting wings he had ever seen. He told Peter, during one of their science-coffee-without-Tony, that before the big-guy appeared he had simple sand-like Sparrow wings. Now, however, he was 79% certain that his wings had transmuted to those of an Argentavis, an extinct bird. It made sense, since his wings didn't change when he transformed, and they needed to be big for the Other Guy. Banner had a wingspan almost 40ft, with strong muscles and a beautiful black-green coloring. They were amazing. Peter just wished the doctor would see it too.

Peter had no idea of what to say about Thor, except that he was cool, intimidating and had really big dragon-like wings that scared him with its razor-like claws.

At least but not last, there was Pepper, who had beautiful Black Rosefinch wings and Peter was terrified of what would happen if she met M.J.

Peter wasn't one for sentimentalism, but he was 100% sure that this was the first time he felt really at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me in [my Tumblr](http://96kyirah.tumblr.com/) !


	3. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I'm sorry? Please don't kill me? I _know_ I'm like, one year late, but last year I started prep school and this year I'm in college so life is _busy_.  
> ... Which isn't actually a good excuse because if you go see my other works I did a whole new, big series and _ugh_. All I have in my defense is that I've fallen in DC hell and Marvel continues to disappoint me.  
>  But with the Spiderman: Homecoming hype I decided to touch this fic again because, even after this ENORMOUS hiatus it's still my most famous fic, so... Here I am!  
> I hope you all will like it!

Peter hates Victor Von Doom with all his heart. He hates, even more, when he sends his Doom Bots to destroy New York. But the top of his hate list (right below rapists and criminals that involve children) are reserved for those times when he arrives late for a fight with the Avengers and sees all of the damage and scared civilians he could have prevented.

Which, unfortunately, has been happening more and more often.

Peter had to stress-groom his wings and take deep breaths to resist the urge to go yell at Tony.

His delays had started almost two months prior, when Peter had accidentally revealed his secret identity to the Avengers after a serious Skrull invasion where he was seriously hurt (Only then did he told Aunt May and his friends of his identity. He didn't want them wondering what happened to him if something happened to Spider-man) and Tony discovered that his favorite intern was going on dangerous adventures with only red spandex for protection.

He was grateful for their concern, he really was, and the new super-resistant suit Tony and Natasha made him was wonderful, but he was twenty years old, for crying out loud! He could very well take care of himself.

He tried to get the team to his side, but Cap said that his studies should be his priority, Banner shyly shifted his wings and agreed that no-one should fight crime on a daily basis at his age, Thor and Natasha insisted that he needed a proper training and Tony screamed "my baby" and treated him like his long-lost child.

Only Clint was on his side, and even then it was more of "I support you but won't tell out loud because Natasha is giving me The Look".

He sighed, letting his wings rearrange themselves on his back and stared at the horizon, so lost in thoughts he almost fell out the rooftop when a voice suddenly appeared behind him.

"Hey there, baby boy!" Deadpool cheered, smiling at him behind his mask when Peter turned his head to glare at him. "Watcha 'doing? Grooming? OH! We could all do a session together, don't you think? That makes me wonder, is the Captain's wings as soft as they look? Have you ever touched them? And Stark's, but that gotta be dangerous to touch. Do you think he has a plushie-prosthesis, for when he and Cap cuddle?"

He kept on rambling, but Peter had tuned him out after the first question and focused his attention on the bag the merc was carrying.

"Is that food?" He blurted out before he could stop himself. Aunt May had taught him to be polite, but every time he was near Deadpool, his manners decided to pack bags and leave to the Bahamas.

"Oh, look at Spidey being all attentive and shit! Aw, yes, I saw you all fighting on the TV - sorry I didn't come help, Blind Al pulled a prank on me again - and decided to bring your dinner!" He cheered, seating himself beside Peter and pulling two tacos from the bag and offered one to him. Peter didn't waste time pulling his mask above his nose and practically shoving the overly-spiced food down his throat. He was hungry, damn it.

He couldn't say that he was surprised to see that, when he turned his head to thank him, Wade had already eaten his taco and was again with his face covered.

Peter had no idea when that habit of theirs had taken form, nor when he started to like the mercenary's company.

(M.J. had suggested Stockholm's when he decided to talk to her about it, since she had become his go-to when in emotional problems where Gwen was his go-to with physical and intellectual ones. And by physical, he meant when he got hurt, you little perverts.)

He guessed it had been somewhere between the incident with the lizard and The Bank Robbery That Must Not Be Mentioned. Which wasn't much, since both incidents were at least one year apart from one another.

And wasn't that a weird thought? Peter had know Deadpool for almost two years now, and even if their relationship had a very rocky - and explosive - start, Wade was one of the funniest and nicest person Peter knew. Well, most of the time, when they were alone and his boxes were in a nice mood.

He remembered that when he casually said something along these lines in the Avengers tower, Clint had looked at him like he was an alien and Tony had choked on his coffee.

Peter knew why they reacted that way. He would do the same thing one year ago, but knowing the man, it was a little difficult to see him as a ruthless killer when every time they met Wade showed him, with childish enthusiasm, all the dog-spotting he did in the time since their last encounter.

He stayed like this for some time, not really listening to what the merc was saying and thinking until his cell phone started to beep with what he knew was the Avenger's tune.

"Looks like that's my cue." He announced, getting up at the same time Deadpool said "Noo, just more five minutes! Let me finish my story!" Peter sighed and resisted the urge to pet him. Deadpool was like a big puppy. A very dangerous puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.

"You know I can't ignore it, Iron Man will come after me if I do. Thanks for the tacos."

"You're welcome, baby boy! We have to do that again, you know, this whole bromance is super-duper cool, and it makes the sales go berserk, like, I think the Author have to put us together more times, we would make an incredible pair and..." Peter didn't wait for him to finish before rolling his eyes and gliding to the next rooftop, where he aimed his web-shooters and began swinging between buildings in the city, Deadpool's cries of "All hail the flying booty" long forgotten behind him.

 

\--

 

Stark tower was the dream come true of every living architect, all shining metal and glass. It was a beacon of light in the middle of gray cement buildings, the evening sun shining on the reflective surface and claiming the attention of every passerby to itself, much like its owner.

But since Peter was no architect, all he thought about the building was that it was incredibly difficult to enter and annoying big.

Peter sighed, landing on the Avengers' platform. He preferred very much to enter by one of the windows, which was impossible to do without asking JARVIS to open it for him, what meant Tony would know he arrived and he would have zero time of peace before facing the very probable scolding he would get for leaving the lab.

He sighed, taking off his mask as he entered the main gathering space of the Avengers, where Clint and Natasha were huddled together in the middle of the communal nest, grooming each other.

"Hey there Peter!" Clint greeted him with an enthusiastic wave, winning light punch from Natasha until he quieted himself.

He chuckled, going in the kitchen to grab a snack (healthy snack, or else they would glare at him) and went to join the crows.

Not five minutes later, when Clint was using the fallen feathers to tickle Peter into submission, Tony barged into the room.

"Peter, there you are!" He said, delighted. He had already got ridden of the Ironman prosthesis and was using a sparrow-shaped carbon-fibers one. "Where did you go? You weren't on the Lab when we arrived."

"You mean 'how did I get out the lab without alerting JARVIS again because you locked me in for the, hm, thirteenth time'?" Peter retorted, rolling his eyes. At his side, he could hear Natasha hiding a smile at his sarcasm. Tony groaned.

"We've already discusses that, no fighting crime until you're finished with college!"

Peter's last hints of good humor went down the drain at that.

"And then what, until I finish Ph.D.?" he asked, standing in the middle of the nest to properly face Tony.

"Well, that would be a good call." was his reply, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter threw his hands up in an exaggerated manner, his wings following the gesture.

"I'm twenty-one already, Tony! I can take care of myself. Besides, why did you invite Spiderman to the team then?"

"That was before we knew he was, well, _you_!"

Peter ground his teeth, taking deep breaths to calm down.

"And, please tell me, what is wrong with me being _me_?"

Behind him Peter could hear Clint facepalming himself and Natasha shaking her head. Luckily for Tony, Steve decided that this was the best time to enter the room, his whole face lighting up upon seeing his team bonding.

"Hey, Peter. Did you eat already after the fight?" He asked, interrupting Tony mid-answer, what made the genius huff and look offended, earning an affectionate bump of shoulders from the Captain. Peter rolled his eyes and started to gather his fallen feathers.

"Yes, Wade brought me tacos." He ignored the reactions he knew that would cause: No-one in the team liked Wade, except maybe Cap, who had tried to help him once, and Logan, but the Wolverine was more of a back-up when they needed him and the X-Men didn't, so he wasn't _really_ on the team.

"Peter, I'm not really sure your arrangement with Deadpool is a good idea." The Captain said, frowning, like he often did at complicated pieces of technology. Tony snorted besides him, turning and going to the kitchen while muttering just what he thought about their "arrangement".

Peter sighed for what felt like the twentieth time that day.

"It's not an _arrangement_. It's not like we have a contract or anything like that. We just team-up when he's nearby and sometimes meet up for tacos." He was, honestly, tired of how defensive they all got of him. It's not like Wade ever attacked him after the first four meetings.

"Still, you know you can call us if anything ever comes up, right?" Peter nodded, tiredly smiling at Steve. He was glad he didn't focus on warning Peter about Wade and instead changed tactics, preferring to make sure Peter would call them if thing went south since it was obvious Peter wouldn't back down on this matter.

Steve relaxed, his wings drooping in a relaxed manner, walking foward to join Natasha and Clint in the nest. Peter waved at them and, since it was still somewhat sunny outside, decided to get some more work done.


End file.
